


Your new job (Flair x reader emetophilia/omorashi)

by Tummysoup



Category: Awful Hospital (Webcomic)
Genre: Emetophilia, Omorashi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 22:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16627799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tummysoup/pseuds/Tummysoup
Summary: You meet your new boss, who is eager to get you started as a ""barista"" right away!!I made the reader gender neutral and tried to keep their appearance vague as well so you can imagine yourself in the situation.  I hope you enjoy my first fic Ive ever posted online~ Sorry its not very long





	Your new job (Flair x reader emetophilia/omorashi)

“You” wake up in a sore, uncomfortable state in a dimly lit, musty room. Or at least you think its you. “You” feel entirely different, like you’re in a completely foreign body and mind, even your memories seem to be different as you try to recall what you used to be. You have no idea why or how, but you know deep down this isn’t what you’ve always been. You look at your hands. They feel familiar but they’re just a little bit wrong. They’re longer and thinner and have become an odd splotchy color. Your body also looks more or less what you feel it should be, just off. The strangest thing though is your head. You touch your cheek, it feels warm but maybe a little TOO warm. It doesn’t feel like skin (are you supposed to have skin?), it feels like paper. There’s something dripping down your forehead. You catch it on your finger and see it’s a creamy brown color. Your senses: taste, smell, sight, touch, even hearing, all suddenly fill with the sensation of…coffee. Coffee? Ah yes, coffee. That’s what you’re all about. Always have been. Right? Something still feels off.  
Your pondering is soon interrupted as the dull soreness in your body becomes a sharp shooting pain in your chest. A gargled moan spits from your throat. You taste a mix of coffee and blood.  
A sultry, womanly voice hums from the pained spot in your chest.  
“Hello sweetheart, now that you’re awake, we can finally begin your training. Welcome to the company~”  
“Hello boss.” You said, like you should to your new boss. Why question it?  
Suddenly you felt a throb throughout your body. At first it was jarring but after each throb it felt gentler. You felt like you knew more than you did a minutes ago, you know the names of all the drinks you’ll be selling and how to brew them, but nobody is telling you how. Instead you feel like the instructions are being drip-fed into your veins like medicine from a syringe. With these instructions, you also feel that each throb makes you a little bit stronger and your soreness fades away. Something, either out loud of just fed through your veins, says to stand up. So you do. When upright you get your first real look at where you are, it was originally too dark with the single light bulb illuminating it, but your eyes have now adjusted. Still not much to see though other than the fact that the room in incredibly grimy. Its empty other than a counter with various sizes of cups, containers and pitchers, each of which are just as grimy as the floor and walls. On top of that, it just absolutely reeked of burnt coffee beans. How lovely!

The spot in your chest throbs again, you feel it with your hand and there's something with a similar texture to a smooth button surrounded by freshly scabbed skin. You feel it breathe. You then feel another throb and instantly remember that this is your new manager and boss, Flair. You feel inclined to look up, and down from the unseeable ceiling comes a few more of Flair’s many heads. Her necks and branching tendrils hang down like wire. Although she was already embedded inside your body and can give you instructions instantly, she still looked right at you with one of her faces and began talking to you directly. I suppose it’s only polite.  
“Have you gotten comfy? How’s the uniform feel?”  
You try to reply, but only a weird gurgle comes out of your mouth.  
“Ah, good~” Flair replied nonetheless. “Now that you’ve gotten settled, we need to start right away. It’ll be a VERY busy day tomorrow, and we need to make sure we have plenty of drink mix to meet the demand!”  
As she spoke, you felt your leg jolt forward, then the other, until you were now walking towards the counter with all the cups with every one of Flair’s eyes staring intently. As you do, you suddenly realize that your stomach feels incredibly full. Were you this full when you woke up? You don’t remember eating, but you don’t remember much period. Guess you just ate and put on your uniform before forgetting about it, it only makes sense. In fact, that must have been quite recent because you also really feel like you need to use the restroom. Your bladder is so full you’re surprised you didn’t like, accidentally wet yourself while you were napping on the floor. No time to ask for a break though, you gotta make drink mix. Your hand shakily picks up one of the largest pitchers.  
“You know what to do...” Flair whispered. Another throb went through your veins. You certainly do know what to do.  
You position the pitcher under your mouth. Another throb. You feel nauseous. Another throb. Sicker still. The throbs were coming steadily now, your eyes were starting to water and you began drooling. It’s clear what kind of mix your boss wanted, you’re about to puke any second.  
It only took one more dizzying throb before you lurched and you sprayed a high-force stream into the pitcher. Well, most of it got in the pitcher, at least. It happened so fast you’re not even sure if the vomit hit your tongue or just sprayed straight out of the throat hole. That quickly changed though, as a ton more bile began to rise up, this time filling up your whole mouth before spilling out. Then another wave. This time you get a better taste of it. The taste and texture is like a mix of meat, potatoes, bile, and a hint of coffee. You’re breathing hard, but so is the Flair head embedded in your chest. Dozens of glowing red eyes stare as you continue to vomit over and over. The pitcher was about two thirds full, but you didn’t even feel close to stopping. You could tell there was way more coming, but now you were struggling, dry heaving into the container. Your whole body was starting to hurt from how much your muscles were contracting trying to squeeze out the rest of what’s in your stomach. It was putting a whole lot of strain onto your full bladder as well. You try to humbly ask your dear boss to let you go to the restroom, but again when you open your mouth only a strange moan comes out, along with some dirty, acidic drool. You’re feeling so incredibly sick and sore, you slowly crouch until you’re almost laying on the floor, putting down the pitcher and getting on all fours. Your face hovers over the pitcher for a bit, occasionally spitting and burping. A few tears and drips of snot fell into the pitcher as well as the nausea caused your eyes and nose to run like a faucet. Thankfully, some more barf finally came out, though in small spurts. Feeling better with every wave, you felt like it was almost over, but then out of nowhere your stomach clenched so tight it felt like someone was wringing out your stomach with their fists. You can just barely express how painful that was before a strong spray forcefully filled your mouth. Not only that, but that stomach clench hurt so badly that your bladder gave up on itself and you lost control. You whined as you helplessly continued heaving, unable to stop yourself from pissing all over the place. With every lurch the piss would come out more strongly.  
“Now sweetheart, we don’t want to waste valuable ingredients, do we?~” One of the Flair heads whispered in a scary sort of tone right by your ear. Shortly after, you could hear the sound of liquid being poured into a cup through the sound of your own moaning. Blinking away some tears and looking under you, you see that your boss has ever so graciously placed another pitcher between your legs, now collecting most of your mess. Now that you have a moment where you don’t feel like you’re gonna puke your guts out you pull down your pants so that no more of your delicious fluids get wasted from being soaked into your jeans. The piss pitcher was almost full already but clearly Flair needed just a bit more. Your stomach once again feels like it’s being violently squeezed, although this time the squeezing doesn’t stop. Then you feel your throat squeeze tight as well, and finally the last bit of bile that was settled in the very bottom of your stomach dribbled from your tongue and into the pitcher. The bile tasted incredibly foul, like raw coffee grounds mixed with the worst most sour rotten slime you could imagine. You were shaking hard, but you were relieved that you’ve successfully gotten it all out without a drop left. Speaking of drops, you can now relax for a moment and just focus on peeing out whats left in you. The pleasure of relieving yourself soothed the pain of your muscles and you let out a joyful sigh.  
“Good, good! You’ve done wonderfully for your first day, dear.” Flair cooed. A smooth red tendril stroked your back as you finished emptying yourself. She had to switch out the pitcher since the other one overflowed a bit but other than that no more was wasted. After that, two more tendrils wrapped around you, picked you up and stuck you back on your feet. Strangely, you didn’t feel tired. You were most certainly hungry though.  
“Now go off and have your lunch break, we need to make sure you’re nice and full for your next shift. You’ll be back on time, right?~”  
“Y-yyhgess…” You finally got out something resembling a word. You feel a little throb that makes you feel a bit hungrier, and you make your way to the break room. You already know your way there, and there’s no need to look back and say be right back to Flair, as you know she’ll be coming with you everywhere now, in your chest. What shall you have to drink with your lunch? Coffee sounds good.


End file.
